star shopping ✰ d.m.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

To make everything even worse, the night previous, before going to bed, Lavender and Parvati had finally come up to the dormitory and within minutes, Hermione and Arabella had gotten into an argument with Lavender over whether or not Harry was telling the truth about Cedric and Lord Voldemort, leaving Parvati to stand back and awkwardly watch it all unfold, unsure of what to do. They had all gone to bed fuming with anger. Lavender, fearing for her safety because of the fact that both Hermione and Arabella were better at magic than her, was avoiding them at all costs by the morning.

Upon leaving Gryffindor Tower and heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast, things between Seamus and Arabella were incredibly tense and awkward. Because he was stuck in the middle of it, Dean felt extremely uncomfortable with it all. On one hand, Seamus had been his best friend since their first day at Hogwarts, but on the other, he agreed with the point Arabella had made the night before about staying united. So, because he didn't want to upset either of them, he mostly kept his mouth shut, leading the trio to hardly speak with one another throughout the day.

That day of classes was incredibly dreadful. First thing, they had History of Magic, which had been awfully boring since day one. On top of boring them half to death, Professor Binns assigned them an 18 inch essay to write on giant wars.

Next was Potions. It was nice being with Draco and actually being able to talk to someone who wasn't angry with her, but the potion that Professor Snape had assigned for them to make that lesson, the Draught of Peace, was a particularly tedious one to brew. Not feeling up to being embarrassed in front of the entire class if she happened to get it wrong, which she definitely would be if Snape noticed, Arabella focused her entire attention on perfecting it. She did succeed, but for homework, Snape was having them write a 12 inch essay about the uses of moonstones.

Divination was also incredibly dull. Professor Trelawney first handed out copies of The Dream Oracle and then sent them on their merry way to interpreting their dreams... in groups of two. As usual, Ron and Harry partnered up, and then Dean rudely partnered with Neville, leaving Seamus and Arabella to work together because neither of them were about to work with anyone else. Mostly, the two of them sat at the table and grumbled at each other, unless Trelawney walked by, at which point they would pretend to be working diligently. At the end of class, they were told they would have to keep a dream diary for a month.

The last class of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Arabella had been dreading it simply because the thought of having to listen to Professor Umbridge's voice for an hour and a half sounded like absolute hell. She had half a mind to ask Fred and George for one of their Skiving Snackboxes but did not, simply because she didn't trust that she wouldn't die if she took one.

While they waited for Umbridge to begin the lesson, the Gryffindor fifth-years played with an enchanted paper bird, laughing as it flew through the air serenely. The fun came to an end, however, when Umbridge entered and, pointing her wand at the paper bird, made it shrivel up into a crisp on Parvati's desk.

"Wicked woman," Arabella muttered under her breath.

"Good morning, children," Umbridge greeted her students.

"It's the afternoon, but whatever."

Umbridge began to walk to the front of the classroom, waving her wand to make words appear on the blackboard up front. "Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations. O.W.L.s. More commonly known as OWLs. Study hard and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and the consequences may be severe. Textbooks out, please."

Grudgingly, everyone took their Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard, out of their bags and set them on their desks.

"Your previous instruction in this subject has been disturbingly uneven," Umbridge continued. "But you'll be pleased to know, from now on, you will be following a carefully structured, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic. Yes?" She called on Hermione, who had her hand raised.

"There's nothing in here about using defensive spells," Hermione said.

"Using spells?" Umbridge laughed. "Well, I can't imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom."

Arabella exchanged a disbelieving look with Dean.

"We're not gonna use magic?" Ron asked.

"You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way."

"What use is that?" Harry asked. "If we're gonna be attacked, it won't be risk-free."

"Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class. It is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be sufficient to get you through your examinations which, after all, is what school is all about."

"And how's theory supposed to prepare us for what's out there?"

"There is nothing out there, dear. Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourself?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe... Lord Voldemort."

The class went silent for a moment, shocked that Harry dared to talk back to a teacher and that he used the Dark wizards name.

"Now, let me make this quite plain," Umbridge said. "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."

"It's not a lie!" Harry contradicted. "I saw him! I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!"

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?"

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident."

"It was murder! Voldemort killed him, you must know that!"

"Enough!" The woman practically screamed the word, rendering the classroom silent once again. "Enough. See me later, Mr. Potter. My office." She let out another giggle, smiling around at her dumbfounded students.

"That foul woman!" Arabella exclaimed once she was well away from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom after class, on her way to the Great Hall for dinner with Seamus and Dean. "How dare she call Cedric's death an accident! And not teaching us how to use defensive magic, it's like she wants us to die! At this point, I would rather have Lockhart back, even now that he's lost his memory! At least he taught us the Disarming Spell!"

"Ari, calm down," Dean pleaded with her. "You're making a scene."

"Oh, am I, Dean? My apologies, but I don't really care."

[word count: 1112]
[written: 6/24/20]
[published: 7/9/20]